


The Children of Loki

by Nikolaus_Chaser



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, F/M, Loki's Children - Freeform, M/M, Pre-Thor (2011), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-27 21:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikolaus_Chaser/pseuds/Nikolaus_Chaser
Summary: Loki brings his children to Thor.  Thor does his best to be a good uncle to the little monsters... And what more than that?





	1. Jörmungandr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Angrboða make a baby. He eats a lot, and leaves animal carcasses under his uncle's bed.

“This is my son.” Loki says, showing off his sharp white teeth when he smiles.  He walks towards Thor slowly, a long and thick snake draped over his shoulders, its coloring silvery blue.  Thor eyes his brother and the snake suspiciously, reaching out with a timid hand to touch the snake’s head. It hisses and nips at his fingers, and he jerks his hand away.  

“I grow weary of your tricks, Loki,” Thor says, muscled arms crossed over his chest.  He looks at the snake in Loki’s arms doubtfully. How is he meant to believe that his brother has sired a _snake_ as his child?

Well, on second thought.  This _is_ Loki.  Thor cast a doubtful glance at the snake again, trying his best to remain sensible.

“This is no trick, brother.  Meet your nephew, Jörmungandr.”

“You… sired this creature?” Thor asks, gripping his hammer with his hand.  It sings to him to bash the monster’s head in. But surely, if this snake is his brother’s child as he says, it is not a monster. It must be good inside, just like Loki is! Even with all of his treachery. The snake slithers around and around Loki’s shoulders, blue and green scales glittering in the mid-afternoon sun.

“Angie and I created him.  You remember Angrboða, yes?” Loki asks, eyes shifting over Thor’s face, considering his reaction.  It takes all of his self control for Thor not to scowl at the mention of that witch’s name. How could he not forget her?  The giantess who Loki so often insisted on spoiling with his attention, and who had bewitched him when he was younger so that every time he handled Mjolnir skin warts would appear on his hands. Even then Angrboða’s glam had been strong, and it wasn’t until Frigga interceded on his behalf that Thor saw the spell lifted.  He would not forget the incident so easily, even a few hundred years later. By the mischievous look in Loki’s eyes, he too remembers the incident well.

“Angrboða… your friend the Seiðrkona.  How could I forget,” Thor says, barely withholding the rancor from his voice.  Loki smiles brightly and pets the head of the snake on his shoulders. “How does she fare?”

“She is well enough.  I will not see her again for some time.  She’s gone to Útgarðar to study their Seiðr techniques.”  He says, distractedly.  He is cooing at the giant snake as it travels in slow, calculating curls around his shoulders.  Her pink, forked tongue pokes out and flits against Loki’s cheek.

“Ah. I am sorry, brother,” Thor says.  But he was not sorry; he was relieved. He never liked Angrboða, or the attention that Loki indulged her with.  He would much rather his brother spent his time with _him_.  But then, Thor was no Seiðrmadr, he never had been.  He could not give Loki illusions or magick tricks.  He could not give him a chi… or whatever it was that Loki was claiming Jörmungandr to be.

“It is just as well.  This will give little Jörmungandr and I time to bond without the old lady’s nagging,” he says, and coos at the snake.  Thor narrows his eyes and steps closer to his brother and the snake. He has always liked snakes. He says as much to his brother, and Loki smiles.

“Yes, I remembered,” he says, and his eyes glitter meaningfully as he looks into Thor’s face.  Thor pauses with an outstretched hand, and he waits for the snake to slither across Loki’s shoulder and on to his arm.  The snake curls around his bicep, constricting his grip on Thor’s muscled arm. Loki grins and whispers, “He likes you, Thor.”

He chuckles.  “As he should.  I am his uncle, after all.”

Thor says this, and Jörmungandr sinks his fangs into the meat of Thor’s arm, drinking his blood and spitting venom into his wound.  Thor’s face grows pale and his muscles tense, and he sinks to the floor on his knees. Loki smiles and laughs. Ah, yes. That _is_ his son.

The snake grows, and soon he spans the whole width of Thor’s chambers.  He slithers and curls around the edges of the room, so that Thor must leap over him when he enters and exits the room.  The snake hisses and pecks at his feet as he walks by, trying his best to bite Thor’s ankles. He eats deer and oxen whole and live, leaving piles of bones behind after his meals.  Loki takes great pleasure in watching his son grow; Thor simply wishes that  Jörmungandr had chosen any place besides his own chambers for that growing to take place.

“Norns, you’ve made another one?” Thor cries as Loki approaches him, a small garden snake curled around his arm and slithering up his shoulder.  Loki laughs and tosses his long, sleek hair over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Thor.  This is just a regular garden snake.  I was practicing my spellwork. Watch,” he says, and a dull blue glow fills the air around Loki’s hand.  The snake transforms into a dove, flapping its wings and taking to the sky. Thor breathes a sigh of relief.  The last thing he needs is another one of Loki’s children romping around his chambers, eating all his food and leaving piles of bones under his bed each day…

“But I have been thinking,” Loki adds, slyly, “It might be nice to have another child.”

Thor’s face pales.  “But who will you sire it with?” he squeaks.  Loki smirks, his gaze shifting towards a small group of maidens on the other side of the courtyard.  They linger there all day with the hopes of gaining the attention of one of the crown princes. Then his gaze travels back to Thor, his eyes raking up and down the handsome body of his brother.

“I’m sure I can find somebody who is willing.”


	2. Hela

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki brings home a gift from Alfheim. In this one, Hela is not evil.

“Loki!” Thor exclaims in surprise, a smile brightening his face.  He tosses the bridle bit he’s holding to the side, and pats his horse on her flank as he steps away from the beast and towards his brother.  Loki stands in the doorway of the stables, the Asgardian sunshine silhouetting his cloaked figure. “You’ve finally returned! How was Alfheim?”

“It was well, brother,” Loki says, stepping into the stables, hay crunching beneath his feet.  “I learned a lot.”

It had been several months since Loki had left for the Elvish moon.  His vacation from Asgard was all but arranged by his father, after Odin discovered Jörmungandr slithering around the palace hallways searching for something to eat.  Loki had warned Thor to keep his chamber doors locked, but Jörmungandr was bright and… well, _hungry_ , and he learned how to unlock the doors himself.

It turned out that Odin was not as charitable a grandfather as Thor was an uncle.  He banished Jörmungandr to Midgard, to live in the oceans where he could feast on as many fish as he wanted and grow as big as he needed.  Loki missed his son, the “little snakey” as he called him (and Thor would laugh at that, and tell Loki that he had never seen a snake so big as Jörmungandr) but he knew that it was probably for the best.  It was most likely only going to be so long before they woke up one morning to find that Jörmungandr had hit a growth spurt and suffocated Thor in his sleep.

And then, because sending his son away was not enough, Odin sent Loki to Alfheim.  He said that Loki was to negotiate new trade routes with the Light Elves, and see about learning some of their more innovative Seiðr techniques. He called it a diplomatic mission.  But Loki knew better than his father thought.  Loki knew an exile when he saw one.

Of course, he made the most of his stay there.  He drank to excess, he bedded wenches and noble ladies and men of plenty.  He weaved in and out of the most prominent social circles, attending Elvish parties and noble functions with practiced ease.  And, of course he learned new magicks. He spent hours in the royal libraries, divesting in ancient knowledge and soaking in the power that those words held.  Freyja taught him to conjure, her brother Freyr taught him to bend reality.

“That is good.  You missed a glorious hunt last month, though.  A Vargr Wolf nearly took off Fandral’s leg, but with the held of Mjolnir I took him down,” Thor boasts.  It’s impossible for Loki not to smile; nobody would ever hear it from his lips, but he had missed his brother’s arrogant smile.  “But you must tell me all about your adventures, brother! I trust the Light Elves treated you kindly.”

“Oh yes,” Loki smiles, a sly twinkle in his eyes.  He turns in the doorway, shifting his cloak about his shoulders.  Beneath the warm fabric something shifts, and Thor’s eyes track the movement with sudden interest.

“Loki?”

“Come into the light, brother,” Loki says, stepping into the sunshine and smiling brightly at his brother.  He sheds his cloak, letting the thick brown fabric pool at his feet. Cradled against his chest is a small babe, one cheek pressed to Loki’s chest and the other turned towards the Asgardian sunshine.  She blinks one bright green eye, squinting in the sun, and her bright pink lips slap together before she releases a shrill cry and turns away from the sun, pillowing her head against Loki’s breast. “And meet your niece, Hela.  The future heir to the throne of Asgard.”

“Norns above,” Thor gasps, and he steps towards his brother, gentle hands held out to receive the babe.  He stays his hand only inches away, reeling back in horror when the babe turns her head and reveals the other side of her face; rotting yellow flesh peeling back from the bone, oozing coagulated blood and sticky brown fluid from her sunken eye socket.  A fly buzzes against her cheek, crawling over her lips and into her open mouth. Loki smiles gently down at the babe, stroking his long fingers through her wispy black hair. “Loki, what _is that_?” he screams.

“She is my child.  Isn’t she just beautiful?” Loki asks, stroking his hand over her decomposing cheek.  A fleck of dead skin peels itself off on his fingers, and he flicks it away with a crinkle of his nose.  The fly crawls back out of mouth and buzzes away, and Thor resists the urge to vomit.

“She is…,” Thor hesitates.  Does his brother truly not see that there is something wrong with this babe?  “Loki, what has happened to her face?” he asks. Loki shrugs.

“She was born this way.  I’ll admit, her complexion was not what I expected, but she is a normal babe in all other ways.  And I love her no less for it.”

Loki’s happiness is contagious, and his lips turn up at the corners as he watches Loki with his daughter.  His smile falters a moment later, and he asks, “And what of the child’s mother? Don’t tell me you left the woman behind on Alfheim!” he says.  His eyes dart towards the babe again, and he wonders what kind of woman Loki could have possibly laid with to produce such a… Well, Thor should probably keep his opinions about the child to himself.  Loki seems quite taken with her, after all.

“There was no woman.  I am both the child’s mother, and father.  Do you think me so dishonourable, brother?” Loki asks.  Thor’s eyes widen, and he holds his hands out to his brother.

“Not at all!  It is why I asked.  I had only assumed…,” Thor pauses, Loki’s words finally sinking in.  As usual, what Loki is saying does not make sense. “Loki, wait. Explain this madness; even I know that you cannot create a child with just yourself.”

“I can,” Loki answers.  He bounces Hela on his hip and smiles gently at his brother, the way an indulgent mother might smile at an upset toddler.  Thor bristles, annoyed by the condescending tone of his brother’s voice. “Brother, do you not consider me an accomplished Seiðrmadr?  Do you think it beyond my ability to bring a child to life?  I did it with Jörmungandr, and now I have done it again with Hela.  It is the greatest accomplishment of any sorcerer of our time, Thor!  Look at her!” he holds the child up, and she squeals.

Thor looks at her closely.  The child is… small and wriggly.  Her face is pale on one side, cheek smooth and rosy.  Her one eye glows the most brilliant shade of green, a color he has admired a hundred times in his own brother’s eyes.  If he ignores the _other_ side of her face… the babe is quite beautiful.  The spitting image of her maker, really. He reaches out and touches his niece’s rosy cheek.  His face splits into a wide grin when she turns into his touch, cooing softly and smiling at her uncle.

“She is quite the sight,” he says softly.  Loki smiles, obviously pleased with Thor’s reaction.  He takes another step closer, gently nudging his brother.  

“Would you like to hold her?”

Thor smiles and nods, and with reverence he accepts his niece into his arms.  On contact he can feel the magick coursing through her veins. It is raw, powerful and pure. The air around them charges and crackles, and Thor smiles at his niece.  She waves her arms above her head, knotting her fingers into his beard and tugging with greater strength than Thor ever expected an infant to weild.

“Loki, brother,” Thor says, breathless.  “She is truly a marvel to behold.”

“A future Queen, to be sure,” Loki says with a smirk.  Thor laughs, and pinches Hela’s little toes. She shrieks and squirms, and around them the grass and flowers blackens and dies.  Thor lifts his eyebrows at Loki, and he smiles sheepishly at his brother.

“What can I say?  She is still learning,” he says, and then he smirks and adds, “Or perhaps she just doesn’t like you.”

“Oh, bullocks!” Thor cries.  “I am a wonderful uncle and you know it!”  Loki turns away, and Thor follows his brother on his heels across the field, his brother’s baby bouncing in his huge, muscular arms.  “Loki…”

\---

“Queue the music,” Loki whispers to the Einherjar soldier nearest to him.  The man looks deeply uncomfortable, but he doesn’t really have a choice but to do as Loki says.  A solid drumbeat starts up, then the echoing blast of a trumpet heralds Loki’s entrance into the throne room.  Behind him, Thor follows, Hela bundled warm and snug against his chest. Odin looks down from his seat on high, unamused as ever by Loki’s theatrics.

“Loki, my son,” he says, his voice tempered.  Loki bows to his father, taking care of the small bundle he keeps cradled to his chest beneath his billowing cloak.  “I trust Alfheim has treated you well.”

“Very well, Odin Allfather,” Loki says, a smirk on his lips.  “And now, may I present to you this most precious gift,” Loki says, holding his head up high. He turns, gesturing with a flourish to the babe snuggled close in his brother’s arms.  “Hela, the future heir to the throne of Asgard!” The babe begins to cry then, and Thor quickly attempts to shush her. Above their heads, the lights flicker and explode in a burst of sparks.

“Loki, what have you done?” Odin asks.  Loki only smiles, collecting the child from Thor’s arms and holding her up for the room to see.  The Einherjar look on with horror, whispering amongst themselves. What has the crown prince gotten himself into this time?  Odin stands. “Guards, leave us.”

They stand in silence while the Einherjar take their exit from the room.  Odin walks towards Loki slowly, frowning at the tittering babe in his son’s arms.

“I thought I forbade you from this,” he says.  

Loki snorts derisively, “Would you ban a dog from its bark?  Forbid a flower to blossom? I have only done what is in my nature, and I have created something beautiful!”

“Beautiful?  The child is half-decayed, Loki!” Odin shouts.  Loki scowls.

“So? She is unique!”

“And what of the child’s mother?  What does she say of this… this deformity?” Odin asks.  Loki’s glare is fit to kill, and Thor knows that the next words from his brother’s mouth will probably get him sent to the dungeons, so he decides to speak up.

“There is no woman, Father.  Loki is the mother… and the father,” he says.  Odin turns his scrutinizing eye on his oldest son, narrowing his eyes.

“And how is it that you have become swept up in this nonsense again, Thor?”

Thor sniffs.  That is… a very good question.  And here he just wanted to be a good uncle.  “I am not quite sure, Father.”

“Hmph,” Odin says, and he turns away from his sons.  He heaves a great, laborious sigh. “Well, we won’t be able to send this one to Midgard.”

“No, you won’t,” Loki says, lips curling wickedly.  Odin turns back to him, his own lips betraying a small smirk.

“To Hel with her, then,” he says.  Loki gasps, reeling back from his father.  Thor grips Mjolnir in his hand, jaw tightening as he looks at Odin in anger.

“You mean to kill the child?” he asks.  He had never thought his father so cruel.  

Odin’s gaze tracks Mjolnir in his son’s hand, and she shakes his head.  “I am curious to know what you would plan to do if I said yes,” he says mildly, then turns around to face his sons face to face once more.  “I am no murderer,” he says moderately. It takes all of Loki’s self control not to laugh outright, and even then he only curbs his tongue for the sake of his daughter. “But Asgard is no place for this child.  She will never fit in here, for she is of both the land of the living and the dead. She will do much better in a place where she belongs. In Hel, she will be a Queen.” This gets Loki’s attention, though he is not foolish enough to fall for Odin’s clever wording.  Just like with sending Jormy to Midgard and Loki to Alfheim, this is a diplomat version of banishment.

“And how do you expect an infant to survive alone in the Underworld, Father?” Loki hisses, gritting his teeth.

“I suppose that until she is old enough to fend for herself, in the interim, she would be allowed to stay here on Asgard.  We will send her to one of our noble families, they will raise her as their own. She will have a good life, want for nothing, she--”

“NO!” Loki screams, advancing towards his father with his teeth bared.  Thor reaches out and grabs a hold of Loki’s shoulder, holding him back. Loki clutches his daughter protectively to his chest, looking down at her delicate face as she bawls.  He strokes his fingers over her cheek. “I will keep her. She is mine! I will not allow to have her raised in the arms of strangers who do not understand her!”

“Loki, you need to learn consequences for your actions.  I thought that sending you to Alfheim would teach you, but somehow you always manage to disappoint me.  The Seiðr you are fooling with is Dark.  I will not let you fall into that dangerous abyss, my son.”

“There is nothing evil about bringing life into this world,” Loki hisses.  “I have done more than _any_ Seiðrmadr before me!  You are only afraid of the power that I possess, of the power that my daughter will grow to possess!” He snarls.  Odin frowns.

“If you will not stop then you will force me to bind your powers, Loki.”

His son snarls at him. “Then bind me, Allfather.  But you will not take away my daughter from me.”

“You are not mature enough to raise a child.  Look at you, spitting and hissing like you are a babe yourself.  And you want me to trust you with a child?”

“Oh, no. I _expect_ you too,” Loki snarls, and the air around them crackles with raw Seiðr.  Thor reaches out again, grabbing ahold of Loki’s shoulder before he can act on his rage.  Loki swivels, bearing his teeth at his brother, but Thor is not easily scared by his brother’s temper.

“Father, you cannot take Loki’s child from him,” Thor says.  Loki’s eyebrows twitch, and Odin crosses his arms over his chest, looking at Thor expectantly.  “Hela is clearly a unique child… Not of Asgard, as you said. She will never fit in, not as our future Queen but neither as the foster child of some… unconscious foster family.  She is only an infant and already her power is strong. There is no one else fit to raise her better than Loki will.”

Odin frowns.  His oldest son may be dim sometimes… easily susceptible to Loki’s tricks, always too trusting of his little brother.  But he does have a good point. No normal person would ever be able to raise Hela as she needed, curtail and coax her to harness her powers appropriately.  Loki is the only one equipped for such a task and judging by the smug smirk on his lips he knows it too. Odin turns away from his sons.

“So be it, then.  Loki, you will take Hela back to your chambers.  You will raise her and teach her until she is old enough to survive on her own.  And then she will be sent to Hel, where she will rule as Queen.” he says. Loki nods, content for now with his father’s decree.  Odin turns to look at him over his shoulder. “And Loki? I do not expect you to continue with these experiments. There are only so many alternate dimensions where I can send these _children_ of yoursbefore I run out of space.”

Loki smirks at that, and takes his leave without another word.  Thor does not even bother to bow to his father before he leaves, following fast on the heels of his brother.  In the hallway outside of the throne room, Loki throws his arms around his brother’s neck. Between them, the child coos affectionately. Even the side of her face that is decaying appears to be smiling, and once again Thor is struck by how absolutely adorable his niece is.

“Thank you, brother.”

“Of course, Loki.  How could I ever let Odin send this cute little face away?” he says, cradling his niece’s cheek in his palm.  Loki laughs, eyes bright with some emotion that Thor cannot place.

“Is that sentiment I hear, brother?” he asks.  Thor smiles, his gaze meeting Loki’s.

“Well, only the best kind,” he says.  At this Loki laughs, and it is the best sound that Thor could ever hope to hear.  (And he is _definitely_ going to win Uncle of the Year.)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I hope you are enjoying this little drabble series. It's inspired by a conversation from the Thunderfrost discord about what kind of uncle Thor would be. I like to think he would be exasperatedly tolerant of his dear brother Loki and his tricks.


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